


The right time

by NoMore_17



Series: WangXian's Fics [4]
Category: Souls Know, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Looking for the lost piece of your soul, Love always finds a way, M/M, Recovered Memories, SoulsKnow, WangXian meets SoulsKnow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28917108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMore_17/pseuds/NoMore_17
Summary: It's cold in the cave.A guqin is precisely in the Center of the dimly lit space between the rock.The strings' vibrato, not touched by a living soul, invades the spaces and crosses them. Traveling through time and space.Another string vibrates in the distance. It is a piano.Those notes...The sound is different.The instruments are different.Time is different.But the melody... The melody is the same.
Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian/Xiao Xingchen
Series: WangXian's Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652506
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap.
> 
> So, after "Home", "Find him", and "Not anymore" there is the final (maybe) chapter: Baoshan Sanren's POV.  
> Maybe you should read the previous first, as they are different sides of the same story.
> 
> Baoshen Sanren is just the key to everything finally falling right in place.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this not-so-little thing as much I enjoyed writing it.  
> As usual, feel free to leave any comment, suggestion, even criticism. I need to learn, and I know everyone can teach me something.
> 
> You can find me on Twitter as well.

****

****

****

_Fire._

_Angry flames._

_Flames that completely envelop the black shadow that doesn't fight back. Accepts his fate serenely._

_Into the fire._

_Lips stubbornly curved up. Not even the flames can take the smile off that face._

_A face born to smile._

_In spite of everything._

Baoshan Sanren sips the amber liquid from her glass, once again chasing away the fire from her visions. She shakes her head in thought. She doesn't like parties, she never liked them, but you don't have to know that the Editor in Chief of the country's most important Network doesn't like being around people.

Communicator, teacher, press officer... public relations are her daily bread and butter, and yet... She wonders how she will survive until the end of the evening.

The taste of this wine tickles a remote corner of her conscience. An ancient, unknown yet strangely familiar taste. Something that takes her away.

So far away. In time, in space...

It's almost like... but no, it can't be... The Emperor's Smile is something that no longer exists, much less on this side of the world.

She hardly chases away another vision. An ethereal and immaculate place. A spring of pure and crystalline water. Dawn breaking above a soft blanket of white clouds.

Not now. This is not the time. She can't think of Gusu, she can't think of _her_. Not in this place, not in this time.

She looks around for some distraction, whatever keeps her anchored to the _here and now_. She is not an _Haute Cuture_ enthusiast, but attending the After Party of the most famous fashion house on the planet is part of her duties. The youngest Lan is the guest of honor, the most sought after testimonial.

The most sought after, not the most _loved_.

It is not easy to love this shy and taciturn boy. It is not easy to be able to see under all the ice that builds his armor. This is how many define him: icy, an ice statue. There is a big heart down there, but reachable only to a few, very few... Maybe two or three individuals in this world. First of all his big brother.

Lan XiChen is open, kind. A warm ever-present smile on his face, probably the fact that he is his brother's agent is part of WangJi's success. A _big_ part.

Lan WangJi has many talents, prodigy child and brilliant student, he proved to be an excellent actor, singer, model, and even a skilled racer... but XiChen is the mirror that spreads the light. Its amplifier in the world. His voice, where WangJi is his strength, the energy that XiChen draws to face the things of the world.

Brothers. Friends. Allies. Two sides of the same coin. Forged in that unique ideal of justice and righteousness that has given the House of Lan proper weight in the world.

That House she would once have given everything to destroy.

She decides to put down this glass still half full which continues to radiate a bouquet that she cannot resist. She doesn't want to think, not about the past, not about the Lans. At least not about _those_ Lans.

She walks over to the counter without paying too much attention to the pair of broad shoulders in front of her.

-Certainly, sir.- The waiter's voice comes clear to her. -It is produced at the foot of the Mountain, in the south of the country.

 _At the foot of the Mountain_. Sanren becomes more attentive. Xiao XingChen's latest report came from the City at the foot of the Mountain. That's where they attacked the kid.

-They still use the same techniques imported from ancient China a thousand years ago.- The waiter continues. -There was a wine, well a liqueur I would say, very famous in the Gusu region...-

At this Sanren's heart stops.

 _Gusu_...

The broad shoulders turn towards her.

WangJi.

She should have known. Who else could want to ask about this damn wine?

There are things that souls don't forget.

-Interested in wine?- She can't help but ask the young man knowing very well that he is completely, hopelessly abstemious.

-I have to go. Sorry, Sanren.-

She tries to block him: -It's _your_ party, where do you think you're going?-

Lan WangJi looks her straight in the eyes. His gaze is intense, deep. Usually, she's the only one who doesn't shy away from sudden oddities like this.

-Where my soul wants me to be.-

Not another word.

 _One more clue_ , she thinks, _one more time_. Sanren turns to scan the room for a pair of eyes that immediately meet hers.

Lan XiChen's face is drawn. She sees anxiety, worry, and... fatigue, perhaps. It is not easy to keep up with WangJi's sudden changes of course.

He is leaving.

By motorbike.

In the middle of the night.

She looks at the glass still in her hands. Maybe it's time to do something. Maybe the time has come.

_Souls know._

* * *

**_8:45 PM Boss Sanren_ ** _: -Are you still there?-_

 **_8:45 PM Stardust_ ** _: -Yep.-_

 **_8:45 PM Boss Sanren_ ** _: -The Kid?-_

 **_8:46 PM Stardust_ ** _: -Barricaded himself in the Hotel.-_

_-He's safe.-_

_-We're in the van. On stakeout.-_

**_8:47 PM Boss Sanren_** _: -_ I need _a full report on my laptop ASAP.-_

 **_8:47 PM Stardust_ ** _: -A full report, boss?-_

_-What happened to "You're just reporters don't play Sherlock Holmes?"-_

**_8:48 PM Stardust_ ** _: -Boss?-_

_-Sanren?-_

**_8:49 PM Stardust_ ** _: -Ok.-_

_-Got it.-_

_-Consider it done.-_

_-On its way.-_

**_8:49 PM Boss Sanren_ ** _: -Book a suite under the name Lan and rooms for the Lan XiChen's personal staff and me._

 **_8:49 PM Stardust_ ** _: -Anything I should know?-_

 **_8:58 PM Boss Sanren_ ** _: -At the right time.-_

 **_8:58 PM Stardust_ ** _: -Ok.-_

Sanren ends the thread and checks the email once more.

_The Golden Core._

They are excited, blah blah blah...

Everything as expected.

Good.

-How do we get out of this now?- XiChen looks disconsolate. -What the heck is it, this time? Eight hundred miles from here, and in the middle of the night. He said he needed to go. That it was _crucial_ for him.

Crucial, as usual. Like that concert on the ship. We landed him with the helicopter on the deck... Crucial. Like the race in the middle of the desert, right? All to follow a _clue_.

A clue.- He is almost sarcastic.- Which will lead to another clue. And then to another one.

Sanren watches the young CEO's shoulders bend under the weight of the whole thing. His eyes meet hers. -What do I tell the Council? Uncle will be furious. There is all the international press at this damn event. How can I justify it?-

-You don't have to.-

-Sanren, will this ever end?-

She puts a hand on his shoulder, understanding yet determined. -There is an important Cultural Center, which some time ago had shown interest in WangJi, it is called the _Golden Core_. It is based in the City at the foot of the Mountain. They carry out a multilingual project on history and culture, between East and West, through music and literature.

-The Literary Café, I remember it. But what does it have to do with him?-

-I told them there was a chance to meet Lan WangJi tomorrow in the late afternoon. And they enthusiastically accepted. Their press office will make a statement on how noble and generous the young scion of the Lan family is, who even hurriedly left the After Party in his honor, in the middle of fashion week, to be present at their most expected cultural event of the season. Proud spokesperson of the ancient culture of his people.

-But how...-

Sanren shrugs: -They said they were honored that finally, a descendant of Lan An has accepted the meeting.-

-I ...- XiChen is out of breath. And Sanren continues: -There is a suite in your name available from dawn and rooms for me and two of yours.

-You?-

-I'll come with you.-

-I can't ask you.

-You didn't.-

A smile finally reappears on Xichen's exhausted face. -The Literary Café. How did you remember it?-

-I am old, not senile...-

-You said it wasn't the right time.

-Maybe it is now.

Sanren's cryptic smile is the last thing XiChen sees before she turns and leaves the room.

* * *

_The young man is hurt and tried by the long journey._

_They set his house on fire. He is here to try to secure the knowledge of his Sect. Or at least part of it._

_He has several books with him, treatises on medicine, military strategy, literature, music, and poetry. Some he personally snatched from the flames who tried to take them away._

_There are clearly visible traces on him of the battle he had to endure. His once immaculate clothes are burnt in several places, worn out by travel and fatigue. The ribbon on his forehead is stained and wrinkled, his long black hair is disheveled and dirty._

_However, this does not prevent his face from smiling gratefully at the monk who welcomes him at the foot of the Mountain._

_-Do not fear Lan XiCh... Sect Leader Lan.- The monk bows formally. -We will take extreme care of them._

The laptop buzzer rips Baoshan Sanren out of her vision, her men's report is here.

_"Foiled attack on Kid 5:03 PM._

_Armed commando disguised as supporters raided theater during rehearsal event tonight._

_Event officially canceled 7:00 PM_

_Kid escorted to hotel 7:50 PM._

_Booked first flight tomorrow 7:13 AM._

_Kid never left the suite._

_Waiting for instructions._

_Song Lan. "_

Attached two photos.

In the first one, there is a black van built by Wen, what a coincidence... Three men with their faces covered are on board. In the other one, there is a black cloak up to the feet. The eternal smile of a guy who, apparently, attracts trouble like a magnet is emerging from it.

That Kid is too noble for this world. Always ready to take sides in defense of the weak, against injustices, regardless of the consequences. Always in the front row, with his head held high.

His stubbornness will always get him in trouble.

But that's the way he is, like his mother. On the side of the righteous. Until the end. No regrets. Whatever it takes.

And it really cost her a lot.

 _Cangse Sanren_.

She hasn't thought of her for years now.

Her best disciple. Her most promising researcher.

She sees her eternally smiling face in her mind. Always ready to see the good in people.

Choosing her over Lan Qiren in the directorate of the new department had been the right choice.

Despite everything.

At first, she just wanted to punish the Lans for what they had done to Lan Yi.

Lan Yi was the first granddaughter of Lan An, designated by her grandfather himself as his empire's heir. And she was more than capable of managing the House as well as running both the Company and the Education Center.

But she was a woman. And many people turned up their noses.

When the Wen Center published _the_ research in the most prestigious scientific journal, which had cost the Lan Center years of study and an immeasurable amount of resources, Lan Yi was accused of negligence.

 _Because she is a woman_ , went untold between the lines.

The Council had already expressed concern that the digitization she promoted was dangerous. The database was too vulnerable without real padlocks and solid bolts to protect it.

The Wens had stolen the files, evidently, but no one could prove it.

Lan Yi was furious. Blinded by vengeance and anxious to prove herself, she had developed a revolutionary computer program, a small thing that could fit on a small punch card, in a time when only one computer occupied a whole room.

If not correctly uninstalled, the program replicated its code indefinitely, occupying all the machine's memory, making it useless.

Baoshan Sanren had warned her that it could become dangerous. Very dangerous. The _killer program_ could go unnoticed on any computer, even remotely. It could spread unchecked like a virus. And it could backfire on them.

She had begged her not to install such a threat into the Center's computer core.

But she wanted revenge; she wanted to defeat the Wens. She didn't want them to get away with it. They had stolen the work of years of Lans' research. And she was the head of the Company. She ran the Center.

She simply could not allow it.

And in fact, the Wen Center machines were irremediably disabled by the program, but nothing could prevent the _killer code_ from replicating itself uncontrolled elsewhere.

It was actually the first malware in history, born almost a decade before the much more famous _Creeper_.

Realizing its power, she could only hide it from the world. But the Council asked her to account for it, and she was forced to admit that she had created something terrible, something that had to be suppressed.

The senior leaders did not like this. The Lans have always been the image of righteousness and fairness. No Lan would ever create something to harm. It doesn't matter whom.

The House dissociated from her and her work. Lan Yi was blamed for using shareholder resources for personal purposes.

The elders had not helped her.

The world had condemned her.

The Council had dismissed her. And she had withdrawn, defeated. Her code disappearing with her.

The Lans had disowened her.

And Sanren had lost her best friend, her brightest scientist, and a vital piece of her heart in one fell swoop.

When the Center merged with the University, and Sanren took over the new Research and Development department's heading, a very young LanQiren was among his best students. But he was a Lan, and she hadn't forgiven.

And so she had choosen Cangse Sanren.

In the end, it turned out to be the right choice. Lan Qiren could never equate her brightness. They were both incredibly experienced and qualified, but she had that genius twist that made the difference.

The department under her leadership had been thriving as never before.

The whole world witnessed this.

After all, perhaps even Qiren himself would have admitted it.

Perhaps.

If he himself hadn't taken credit for it just a few years later.

Cangse Sanren had met a young literature teacher, Wei Changze. Within a few months, they fell in love, got married, and gave up everything to go around the Country, starting an impressive process of literacy in the most disadvantaged areas.

And so, the leadership of the department had naturally shifted to Lan Qiren.

By then, Sanren had had enough.

She went away, founding her exclusive Communication Academy in the mountains.

She didn't want to have anything to do with the Lans anymore. Not the Company, not the Network, not the Research and Development department. Nothing more.

She stayed in touch with the Weis. Letters from every corner of the continent updated her on their progress, sometimes asking for advice on new projects, sometimes bringing joyful news.

Like their baby on the way.

They asked her to be his Godmother, and she happily agreed.

She had felt honored and proud in holding that impertinent little bundle who attracted everyone's attention with his dazzling smile.

His mother's smile.

The smile he has never lost. Not even now.

Not even after losing both his parents, not even after being targeted by those who had already destroyed his parents' work.

Not even when the media attacks on his person became real, it seems.

Sanren looks again at the picture in front of her. That smile is still there. Although the boy's face is tired, exhausted.

The coat he wears helps to make everything darker. An eerie black shadow. Where on earth did he ever get that coat? He looks like Neo's double...

A red something dances like fire in his hair. It looks like _Sanren's_ ribbon, but she lost it in the desert a long time ago. In that remote place where WangJi had ridden in an off-circuit Moto Gp race.

She zooms into the photo, Song Lan always sends very high-resolution pictures saying it's the small details that can make the difference. No doubt, that's her ribbon.

Hers.

In the Kid's hair.

She lost it, and he found it.

_In the middle of nowhere._

_Souls seek each other._

Sanren drops onto her uncomfortable chair. They really crossed paths.

Maybe even several times.

She had noticed his smiling face on the billboards that day. It was his, the face of the energy drink that sponsored the competition WangJi had easily won. But she never would have thought that the Kid was also there in person.

They had crossed paths without meeting.

She and the Kid.

And also WangJi and the Kid...

_In the middle of nowhere._

_Souls chase each other._

Photos don't lie. They can't.

In this photo, there is also a bright green light next to the Kid. It takes a while before she realizes that it is only the reflection of the headlights on a horrible travel bag at his feet.

Her heart tightens. In that briefcase, cheap and ugly, she knows there is the Kid's entire life.

He is one who travels light. Always ready to start over.

She can picture the content: a change of clothes, maybe two. A laptop probably out of memory. His sketchbooks and some pencils. The tablet where he saved all his books and music, and that diary he has been carrying around for years. A leather cover diary to write down _important thoughts_ , as he calls them. A habit he had taken up in the Academy and never lost.

The important thoughts.

The clues...

_Coincidences?_

_Yeah... Coincidences._

She gently brushes the laptop screen with a finger. Caresses that face she now only sees in the pictures that her reporters Xiao XingChen and Song Lan take around the world.

 _Go home_ , she thinks, _it's time_.

* * *

_The water is still. The surface is a mirror that reflects the very clear blue of the sky._

_The white robes of the young master, on the other hand, move gently, as if a light breeze were waving them. They dance on the water while he cross-legged plays his zither._

_His eyes are closed, His expression solemn._

_It's a beauty that takes your breath away. It looks like a statue of pure jade._

_Not a hair is out of place. The ribbon on the forehead is immaculate. The nimble fingers move on the strings without hesitation._

_But while he plays, the landscape around him freezes._

_The crystals advance towards him relentlessly. They wrap everything up._

_They swallow everything._

_It's White Death._

Baoshan Sanren no longer wonders what these visions mean. Curiously she wonders whether fire or ice is more powerful.

Fire in its unpredictable disruption, or ice with its solid strength?

A knock on the door takes her away from her thoughts. Slowly she gets up; only one person can knock on her door at this hour.

-XiChen. Come in.-

-Transportation is in turmoil. I arranged for Uncle to fly back by the Company jet. The team will travel with him, only my personal staff stays with me. I asked for a car ready for us tomorrow morning at seven.

-I'll be ready.-

-Sanren... you don't have to do that.

-I know.-

If Lan XiChen wonders once again why Sanren is so comfortable with his younger brother's quirks, he doesn't show it.

He smiles at her gratefully. -Good night, Sanren. See you tomorrow.-

-Try to rest, XiChen.-

-I'll try.-

Sanren closes the door behind him and packs his suitcase. On top of it all, a black felt bag.

She's been carrying it for weeks.

It was the strangest shopping impulse of her life. At first, she thought of it as Lan WangJi's birthday present, but then something stopped her. It didn't seem like the right time.

In more than a month now, the right moment has not yet come.

Not yet.

* * *


	2. Part two

**_4 45 AM Misty Man_ ** _: -Kid booked a cab to Airport.-_

_-Xiao XingChen on his heels.-_

**_5:12 AM Stardust_ ** _-Flight delayed.-_

_-Something's wrong. Will stay here.-_

**_6:38 AM Stardust_ ** _-Canceled all direct flights to and from China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan.-_

**_6:56 AM Stardust_ ** _-Only way back tomorrow 12.05 via Seul.-_

**_7:19 AM Misty Man -_ ** _Kid back in Hotel.-_

_-Nobody followed.-_

**_Pic Attached_ **

Sanren looks at the pic. The Matrix-style coat is still there. There is still the red ribbon, _her_ red ribbon, and the horrifying bright green bag is radiating beams of emerald light as the sun shines.

She shakes her head. Stay low profile, huh? That Kid will never change.

Nostalgia hits her. She hasn't seen him in person since his graduation. So proud of his degree in Visual Communication that he wanted to open his own graphic design studio.

It had been tough for Sanren at first. She didn't want to lose him too. The Kid was the last piece of a part of her life she struggled to break away from, the last link to a past she did not want to let go of.

Perhaps that was why she had put his best action reporters on his heels. And since then, his face had only appeared to her through the photos taken by Son Lang and Xiao XingChen.

Xiao XingChen was a brilliant lecturer at her Academy, who also trained there. An intrepid journalist. When he had expressed his intention to resign teaching to carry out real work as an investigative journalist in the field with Song Lan, the best photojournalist they had ever known, she had agreed as long as they remained in the boy's area of action. If it were troubles they were looking for, they would definitely find them.

The Kid had a particular propensity for catastrophes.

But he worked hard.

He was tireless and brilliant. He had designed the best advertising campaigns of recent times until he himself became the face of the best-known companies. Good-looking, he knew how to move, he could dance and sing. From commercials, he was slowly climbing into a new career.

His boy band was known all over the Country, and someone was starting to cast him as the leading actor in independent productions.

The popularity he gained had given him weight in society. And when Yiling's Educational and Rehabilitation Center for Disadvantaged Children was threatened, he openly took a stand.

The land owners where the Center stood wanted to build a showroom for luxury cars in its place. That the Country's largest luxury car manufacturers were the Wens was, of course, a mere coincidence...

The Kid had put his face on it. On the front line. He believed in that Center, not only because his parents had founded it but also because he knew the people who took care of it. He valued them and their work and had helped them as much as he could. With his money, with his work, with his time.

Things got out of control pretty quickly.

A media campaign against him had spread out of nowhere, blaming him for taking away space from the Country's production companies for the benefit of a handful of kids with no past and no future.

Parasites.

While spreading around pictures of him and a little boy always close to him in the Centre, people began to speculate on his real motivations. Someone was clamoring for the cancellation of advertising contracts with the most important companies.

Sanren herself had taken the field. Her journalists, bloggers, and the influencers on her circuit had worked hard to spread the truth on the Net where certain media supported defamation.

They seemed to have calmed down, but then the threats, from virtual, became real. Yesterday's attack was nothing but a confirmation of the new trail of events.

But he is still there. Untamed and untameable.

The hint of a smile blooms on her lips.

 _You have to go home, kiddo. Go home_.

-Did you say something?-

Lan XiChen's warm voice brings her back to the present.

-No, I was just lost in thought...-

-Take it easy. It will be a long journey. We will not arrive before evening.

The SUV is large and comfortable, and the LXC's driving is stable and safe. She sits beside him, his men in the back seat.

Yes. It will be a long journey.

And the Kid will still be there...

* * *

_It's cold in the cave._

_A guqin is precisely in the Center of the dimly lit space between the rock._

_The air is still, surreal._

_The strings' vibrato, not touched by a living soul, invades the spaces and crosses them. Traveling through time and space._

_Like the waves created by a stone thrown into a pond, it spreads relentlessly._

_Another string vibrates in the distance. It is a piano. An old grand piano. The polished mahogany, the white keys..._

_No._

_This is a memory._

_Maybe._

_There is a boy. A little brat struggles with piano lessons._

_Suddenly his little hands run over the keyboard. And a smile lights up his little face._

_Those notes..._

_The sound is different._

_The instruments are different._

_Time is different._

_But the melody... The melody is the same._

They arrive in the City at the foot of the Mountain in the late afternoon.

The atmosphere is dense.

There is energy all around.

A lot.

They are all here... she, the Kid, Song Lan, Xiao XingChen, and Lan WangJi.

It had never happened before.

The sun has now set, but there is still time for XiChen to join his younger brother at the meeting. It is only in the late evening, however, that Sanren hears them coming back.

The rooms are close enough, and his ear is sensitive.

The tones and movements she perceives tell her that something has happened.

This was to be expected. Electricity is in the air.

Someone is in the corridor. Intrigued, Sanren looks through the peephole: it's XiChen. He closes the door and leans against the jamb. And sighs.

Sanren has never seen him like this.

She remembers the first time she met him.

The Lan International Inc. was interested in her new e-learning platform. She went to their headquarters expecting a frowning middle-aged man at the top of the Company. Lan Qiren had retired, and his successor was improving and modernizing the network.

Knowing Qiren, he would not have given way to someone else lightly.

That's why she was not prepared for the smiling young man she had found in front of her. He looked vaguely familiar.

This had caught her off guard.

She had gone there with the intent of declining any offer. She wanted them to beg her, then leaving them to their fate.

As they had done with Lan Yi.

But this young CEO was kind and knowledgeable. In a nutshell, he had made her understand that the Company's mission was indeed headed towards righteousness and honesty.

The Network would have spread truthful news and not bent to any power, the advertising campaigns would have been honest, and the productions aimed at cultural diffusion and not at a mere profit.

Free information. Advertising progress. Culture. Education. In the broadest meaning.

She accepted.

At the second meeting, set to define roles and skills, the young Lan had doubled himself.

A more severe and colder version of him had appeared at his side.

She had seen that face before.

In the ice.

In the water.

In the clouds.

He wore a light blue shirt like the crystalline water that forged him in her visions.

He was introduced to her as the younger brother of Lan XiChen, barely an adult.

He didn't care about the Company. He was a performer. It was the Company instead that cared about him. The eldest of the Lan was his agent, and she as editor-in-chief should have followed him too.

Any reserves she had melted like snow in the sun. A strange protective instinct towards this silent young man had taken possession of her.

And so she remained, taking the editor-in-chief position as long as she was given enough time to run her Academy.

Lan XiChen had kindly pointed out that formation could never conflict with information.

She remained, and this cold and solemn young man had carved his way to win her affection.

In some ways, he was like Lan Yi. Smart and capable. Independent and respectful.

And that fire that burned inside him, that fire that no one could see. That obsession that took him around the world. In search of his missing piece. Of his soul, of his heart. That she could understand.

She wasn't sure why, but she fully understood it.

He was looking for something. For someone.

She had seen that dedication before. Sometimes it had brought destruction, sometimes, more rarely, happiness.

For a moment, Song Lan's face appears in her mind. Yes. It's that kind of determination. Sometimes it pays off.

* * *

_Again the flames. The Kid enveloped in the incandescent tentacles that hold him back without escape._

_Something is different, though._

_A glacial calm, more dangerous than a storm, falls upon the flames. It exudes power._

_Calmness versus chaos._

_A shape of water moves towards the flames. These seem to fear it. They tremble, but they don't leave the kid._

_Watching the water shape approaching, he is not afraid of it._

_Instead, he smiles at it._

_As if he were waiting for it._

The first light of dawn filters through the curtains. There is movement in the next room.

Lans... Nothing prevents them from being up at dawn. Not even a whole day or night of travel, a long and exhausting gala dinner, a debate meeting, and not even time zones. Nothing.

She is awake by now; she might as well go and have a real cappuccino prepared down at the bar instead of the slop she could prepare herself in the room with a kettle and some instant coffee.

In the lobby, she runs into WangJi. The young man bears the marks of a sleepless night. And as usual, he is a man of few words.

-I follow the crumbs, you know...-

He is already on the street when she whispers behind him: -Go, boy. Find him.-

_Crumbs._

What a strange choice of words...

As if a spiteful Tom Thumb was deliberately leaving him crumbs, signs, clues...

_Clues._

It is a trail of light. Sanren can see it. An illuminated path.

_Trail of light._

Wait.

Wasn't that the new project the Kid is working on?

 _Trail of light_... Or something like that.

She should ask Xiao XingChen for confirmation, but she is pretty sure.

It is the light that shows the way.

Can't help but smile.

-Go, boy.- Whispers again. -Go.-

She is still there, lost in thoughts, a couple of hours later, after three cappuccinos and two brioches, when a shaken Lan XiChen bursts into the room.

He _breaks_ in.

Very no-Lan.

He's in a rush. His face a mask of concern.

He agitated asks the concierge to get his car ready and asks where he can find a helmet.

Sanren wonders why he is so worried: according to her calculations, the guys should be together at this time.

-A helmet, sir? Is a medium-size ok for you? -

_XiChen asked for a helmet..._

Of course!

The helmet...

How did she not think about it before?

She tries to calm XiChen as best she can and then orders: -Stay here.-

She flies, as far as her old legs allow, upstairs to her room.

The laptop open on the desk shows dozens of notifications, perhaps by Xiao XingCheng, but now is not the time. Or rather, it's time, but she has to find the helmet first.

She digs into her bag.

Damn, where did it go?

She takes out the black felt bag. There it is.

There is a brand new shiny helmet in the bag: glossy black, two red stripes on the sides that look like two tongues of fire.

_Appropriate._

-The right time has come.- She whispers.

Tightens the strings of the bag and rushes down the stairs to a Lan XiChen in anxious expectation.

-How do you get ...-

-Oh, it's WangJi's birthday present.-

An imperceptible raise of XiChen's eyebrow reveals the hint of disbelief they both feel. Maybe they both think the same thing: WangJi's birthday was more than a month ago...

But he is in a hurry and runs away gratefully and relieved.

-Thank you. I owe you.-

Baoshan Sanren stares at the glass door behind which the young Lan has disappeared.

An image is reflected in the glass.

It's not real, she knows by now. She tries to focus on the vision.

Water and fire.

_Together._

They collide; no, they merge. Somehow they complement each other.

Water and fire.

_Together._

Strong.

Powerful.

Inseparable and indestructible.

A thought catches her suddenly: _My time here is over_.

She closes her eyes. Behind her closed eyelids, a smiling Lan Yi repeats: - _Your time here is over. Come back home, come back to me_.-

Sanren goes back to her room.

She sends the resignation letter and instructions to sort out her things. The notifications are still there.

It's Song Lan.

Attached are seventeen photos.

The Airport. Desert.

The Kid on the escalators.

A black shadow with a tongue of fire peeking out through his hair.

WangJi at the security checkpoints.

The Kid walking through the waiting area.

WangJi looking around for something he seems had lost trace of.

The Kid standing still in the Center of the C area.

WangJi walking in the duty-free gallery.

The Kid at the piano. A bright green light at his feet.

WangJi behind the Kid.

Their reflections in the glass of the VIP area.

Both the guys standing close together.

The Kid with one hand on Lan WangJi's wrist.

Two policemen running through the access.

The alarm light lighting everything in orange.

The two of them being led to the exit by the policemen.

With the last photo, it comes a note signed by Xiao XingCheng: -The right time has come, what do you say?-

It shows the Kid and Lan WangJi hand in hand. Eyes locked and a genuine smile on their lips. The Kid's one is brighter, while WangJi's is more contained. But both sparkling in the mid-morning light.

In front of them a bewildered Lan XiChen in the act of handing them Sanren's helmet.

Once again, she found herself stroking the laptop screen.

_Go back to Gusu, guys._

_Together._

_Go home._

_It's the right time._

**_Fin_ **

* * *

**_ Appendix A _ **

**_Chronicles of the City at the foot of the Mountain._ **

_False alarm at the Airport in the City at the foot of the Mountain, where a suitcase, left unattended in the waiting area, triggered the anti-terrorism security alarm._

_The bomb squads called to defuse a horrifying emerald green bag were seen peacefully approached by two guys who candidly admitted that the bag was theirs and that they hadn't noticed the commotion, probably too busy with each other._

_Famous Freelance reporter Xiao XingCheng was on site for a report and vouched for the guys escorted out by law enforcement._

_They got away with a lecture and an invitation to throw out the bag, too ugly for two handsome guys like them._

* * *

**_ Appendix B _ **

**_3:17 PM Old Twin Jade -_ ** _Sanren! Where are you?-_

_-I won't accept your resignation.-_

_-Have you heard me?-_

**_3:19_ ** _**PM Baoshan Sanren** -It's a text XiChen, how can I hear you?-_

**_3:19_ ** _**PM Old Twin Jade** -Don't play dumb.-_

**_3:22_ ** _**PM Baoshan Sanren** -I'm not.-_

**_3:22_ ** _**PM** **Old Twin Jade** -Sanren... That guy...-_

**_3:22_ ** _**PM** **Baoshan Sanren** -Yes?-_

**_3:22_ ** _**PM Old Twin Jade** -Do you know him, don't you?-_

**_3: 25_ ** _**PM** **Baoshan Sanren** -Yes. I know him.-_

**_3:25_ ** _**PM Old Twin Jade** -He's the young performer who was cyberbullied a short ago?-_

**_3:25_ ** _**PM** **Baoshan Sanren** -Yes, he is.-_

**_3:26_ ** _**PM** **Old Twin Jade** -There it was something about the Yiling Center, am I right?-_

**_3:28_ ** _**PM** **Baoshan Sanren** -XiChen, why you ask?-_

**_3: 28 PM_ ** _**Old Twin Jade** -I want you at your desk Monday morning.à_

_-We will take over the Yiling's.-_

_-And take a stand against the Wens.-_

**_3:33_ ** _**PM** **Baoshan Sanren -** I'll be there.-_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading...  
> I wanted to post this to celebrate the Chinese new year, so happy new year!  
> 12022021 it's quite the number...

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this to be my present for Lan WangJi's Birthday. I'll try to post the second part before the Chinese New Year.  
> For now, I want just to celebrate my boy...  
> #HappyLWJDay


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